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Bailey

“This place is a literal castle,” Andi beams, looking at the sprawling estate around her. “I still can’t believe you chose to live in a stuffy, little apartment with me when you had this waiting for you at home.”

I grimace, ignoring the prying gaze of my mother across the terrace. I don’t have the heart to tell Andi living in the picturesque, Californian version of a Romanian drug lord’s mansion isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. The house is grand, yes, though, it lacks something. I’ve spent the last six years trying to decipher what that is.

“Closer to school,” I lie and Andi doesn’t seem to notice. Just this morning, our college graduation had taken place before our families and friends had made their way to my mom and stepdad’s house. Mom really outdid herself. Each gothic stone wall is decorated with twinkle lights, blending in with the vines that snake over the rough bricks. Each blade of grass past the gardens has been trimmed to perfection and there isn’t a single weed in any of the exuberant amount of flower gardens. A princess’s dream come true.

Too bad I’m not a princess.

There are so many people that I don’t recognize at the party. Men in business suits and women in couture dresses. All of them seem to know me, but it’s only because of my mother or Marcus, my stepdad. People mingle, talking about the same boring things they talk about at the dinner parties and charity events that everyone goes to just to show off their wealth.

I wish I would have been able to keep this half of myself hidden from Andi. I don’t want her to see my home life and think I’m something I’m not. Truthfully, my time living with her in our shitty, barely two-bedroom apartment off campus were some of the best years of my life.

Andi and I decided to share a graduation party, partially because she’s from New Orleans and her family traveled all the way to California for the ceremony, but mostly because I was hoping for her to take the spotlight with my mother. I prefer to blend into the background where my mother is concerned, so I always opt to bring a friend for her to fawn over. At the moment, Mom seems to be offering makeup tips to Andi’s stepmom, Kendra, who looks like she absolutely could not care less. Andi notices, ambling over to break up the tense conversation with a sigh.

“There you are,” a low voice says behind me. An arm bands around my waist and I’m pulled against the hard side of Drew, my boyfriend. He pushes a loose curl off my cheek and brushes a thumb over my lips.

“Here I am,” I smile, placing my hand over his. His other hand fists the satin of my dress and I pull his hand off. “Stop. Mom will be mad. This is Versace.” I smile at him, so he doesn’t get angry, but inside, my heart pounds. Mom spent a fortune on this dress, though I’m not really even sure I like it. It’s a rose satin wrap dress and the straps are meant to drape off my shoulders. I keep trying to tug them up, but then I’m reminded of their purpose and let them fall back down.

“What is your sister doing?” Drew asks, narrowing his eyes at Mila, my youngest sister at eighteen, across the terrace. She sits between a bush and a large statue of a woman in a flowing toga. She moves her fingers animatedly over the old Gameboy I found in my things from when I was a kid, avidly in a trance while playing Mario.

“Parties aren’t really her scene,” I tell him as he steps behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He’s a lot more hands-on than he normally is around other people and the thought has me questioning his motives.

“She’s so fucking weird,” he murmurs, low in my ear.

I bite my cheek to keep from snapping at him and pull out of his arms. “I need to use the restroom.”

Drew’s statement sets me on edge. Mila’s not weird. She’s eccentric. Not meant for this life of expensive dresses and bossy men.

In reality, I just need a second to myself. I just graduated college with a degree in business, one that would literally never be put to use. At least, not if my mother has any control over it. She would prefer I marry a wealthy man and be seen as arm candy for the rest of my life. I’ve been wracking my brain, searching for a purpose for the piece of paper that is now on display on a nearby table. I mean, I did spend four years working toward it. It only makes sense if I actually do something with it.

Andi has it all figured out. She and her brother are set to inherit their father’s business when he retires — a restaurant and bar down on Bourbon Street. I had been there once, but only for a weekend. We spent most of the time either drunk or hungover in bed, so I hadn’t gotten to see much of the city, something I regret.

Making my way through the throngs of elegantly dressed people, I quietly step into the house, keeping my head down as I pass my stepfather, Marcus, and his colleagues talking law cases and clients. Marcus is one of the best lawyers in the country for high profile cases. You murder an entire nursing home of the world’s sweetest elders? He could probably get you off. Burn an entire city to the ground? He’s your man.

Being a good liar is essential to his line of work, something he had demonstrated last week when I had caught him in bed — for the third time — with his secretary. Corrine Ludvik just so happened to be at the party tonight, sidling up to my mom like she hadn’t just caught Marcus’s unborn children with her tonsils, probably even this morning.

I use the restroom in the downstairs bathroom, far away from everyone. I hate this part of the house. I swear it’s haunted. I always hear thuds and creaks when I’m down here alone. I do my business and get the hell out before any demons — or party-goers, can hunt me down and slip out the back door. The basement leads out to the beach and to a light house right off the water that no one uses anymore. My first boyfriend and I used to hide out there when we didn’t want to be found. I even christened it with my virginity at seventeen. Now, the weather has been unkind to the structure in the last couple years and most of the paint that was on the brick exterior is falling off.

I don’t care. I step through the sand, sliding my heels off before I break my neck and make my way up the spiral staircase. It’s dark, so I don’t notice the person standing there until the glowing orange end of a cigarette catches the corner of my eye.

I jump, letting out a squeak and almost stumbling backward down the staircase, before a strong arm juts out of the darkness and a hand catches mine, pulling me back up.

“A little too much to drink, princess?”

I know that voice.

“Charlie?” I snap at Andi’s older brother. I’ve only met him once, when I was down in New Orleans before today. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

He steps forward and allows the pale moonlight drifting through the open windows to illuminate him. God, he’s handsome. Never have I ever seen a man that could look so pissed off all the time, yet so undeniably sexy. With a sharp jawline, ever-changing grey eyes and dark blond hair, one would think he had been made by a sculptor from ancient Greece. I’m sure his abs could attest to this. He takes a drag on his cigarette and I use the moment to drink him in. Hard muscles under a dark button-up and jeans. My mouth practically waters before I remind myself that Drew is very much still my boyfriend and that I’m supposed to be excited about the possibility of our engagement. “I could ask you the same question.”

I roll my eyes, plucking the cigarette from his fingers and taking a pull. His eyes roam my body indecently, making my cheeks flame. I cough when the harsh nicotine and cancer-causing chemicals hit the back of my throat, only embarrassing myself, so I hand it back.

“This is my hiding place. Get your own.” I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly hyper-aware of the extra cleavage I’m showing in this dress.

He just shakes his head in that infuriating, indifferent way he does.

“I was here first.”

I want to argue with him, but I decide it’s not worth it. I step to the large window that spans the entire circumference around the light and lean my arms on the frame where the glass used to be. At this height, the party doesn’t seem so bad.

“Everyone looks so small from up here.”

Charlie steps up to the window beside me, eyeing the party below with annoyance.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” I ask, pointing to his dad, Charles, and Marcus, now holding a conversation on the terrace.

Charlie shrugs. “Probably business. That seems to be all your dad talks about.”

“Step-dad,” I correct. “And he’s a lawyer. Isn’t that what they all do?”

“Andi told me you were rich, but she didn’t tell me you were an heiress to a kingdom.”

I grit my teeth. “I’m not,” I shrug. “That would be my mother. And all of that will probably go to the favorites.”

I point out Mila, still hiding in her alcove.

“The quirky one that likes depressing music and video games more than her actual friends,” I say, pointing to Mila with a smile.

“Do you have any other siblings?” Charlie asks, taking a drink of what looks like whiskey from a glass tumbler.

“Two. Mason, my older brother. He’s not here. And that one,” I point to Savannah who is surrounded by a gaggle of friends, all with their faces shoved in their phones. “The impossibly chic and fashionable rebel.” I roll my eyes. “At least, that’s what our mom says.”

“And what are you?” Charlie sits his glass down and leans with his back to the window and the party below, focusing his eyes on me, instead. I feel too . . . seen under his gaze and it makes my skin tingle. It’s like he’s able to read my thoughts. I don’t like it.

I let out a sigh to steady myself and lay my head in my hand. Who knows? “The goody-two-shoes who does everything she’s told, I guess.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Well, believe what you want,” I murmur. “I’ll still be stuck going to business dinners where I have no idea what’s going on, attending garden parties with my mother and fighting to keep my sisters out of trouble, probably for the rest of my life.”

He extinguishes the butt of his cigarette on the brick wall of the lighthouse, tossing the butt out the broken window.

“You don’t ever think of rebelling?”

My heart flutters nervously at the thought and, instinctively, I check around me for any sign of my mother. She seems to have eyes and ears everywhere. If she knew I was up here right now instead of down at the party, with another man, no less, there would be hell to pay.

“And doing what?” I ask timidly. I sound like a child. Charlie probably thinks I’m a snob.

He eyes me like he’s holding something back. “Whatever you want. I don’t know what you rich girls do for fun. Wear blue lipstick instead of pink for a day?”

I roll my eyes and shove at his shoulder, but it makes me smile. It’s a mistake, because the moment I touch him, heat radiates through my palm.

“I’m going back to the party before you give me crazy ideas. I’ll be a delinquent in no time hanging with you.”

“Wouldn’t want to taint your perfect reputation,” he chuckles, taking another drink of liquor and turning back to the window.

I smile and shake my head as I make my way back down the spiral staircase and out onto the sand. I can’t say the thought of rebelling against my mother’s wishes doesn’t send a shiver of excitement through me. What would I even do? Stop combing my hair? Buy a motorcycle and change my name to Stitches?

Just like Charlie, I have no idea what rich girls do for fun.

I slip my heels back on before I ascend the stairs to the terrace. On the last step, I slip my mask back on and step back into my place beside Drew, listening to a boring story about the laws surrounding jaywalking that he’s carrying on with one of his Cornell classmates.

I try to pay attention and look interested because my mother is watching, but I find my gaze drifting back to the top of the lighthouse, wondering just what it would be like to rebel in the form of stormy grey eyes and rough voice.